


Purchase

by Royal_Prussian_Fox



Series: Path Actions [4]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Oh Tressa sweetie, Oh wait, Ophilia has the patience of a saint, Sick Fic, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-11
Updated: 2019-05-11
Packaged: 2020-03-01 05:43:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18794155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Royal_Prussian_Fox/pseuds/Royal_Prussian_Fox
Summary: If anybody but Tressa does the shopping, it's an utter nightmare.





	Purchase

**Author's Note:**

> After being released for almost a year, I'm happy to see that the Octopath Traveler section is still going strong! It's been a while since I wrote for this fandom, but I still love the game. So I'll go ahead and put this out in advance of the June re-release as a bit of a celebration!
> 
> This is set almost immediately after Guide, by the way — not that you need to read either one to understand the other. Just a bit of trivia if you're curious!
> 
> Comments always appreciated.

"Hey, Tress? Tress!"

Tressa blinked. She shook herself. Alfyn appeared in front of her, waving a hand in her face. Tressa frowned. "I'm right here. You don't have to shout."

Alfyn rubbed his head sheepishly. "Heh, sorry, didn't mean to surprise ya or nothin'. Ma always said I had me a set of lungs."

"That's okay. You got to get people's attention, right?"

Therion huffed. "You'd all make terrible thieves."

Tressa would have rolled her eyes, but that seemed like a lot of effort for Therion's sake, so she chose not to. "Anyway, what's up?"

"Naw, you were just bein' awful quiet back there. Just makin' sure you're feelin' alright, is all."

"Yeah, I'm fine," she reassured him. She shook her head, hard, to emphasize the point, only realizing too late that she shook her head too hard, because the sky shook along with it. She waited a moment for it to stop. She shook her head again, gently, which this time kept the world-shaking to a minimum. "Where's everybody else?"

"All about a Froggen's tongue from Goldshore, I reckon."

Tressa looked blankly at Alfyn. "Uh…"

"They're almost to Goldshore," Therion helpfully clarified.

Tressa looked blankly at Therion. "Oh," she finally said. "I guess I'm lagging."

"Ain't nothing. Less'n a half-hour of hoofing it, and we'll be caught up good. See? That's Miss Primrose on that bridge, there." Alfyn gestured into the distance, where a thin brown squiggle wriggled back and forth like a worm against the sky. Tressa could barely make out a splotch of red on top of it. She guessed that must be Primrose, even though the red splotch didn't look at all like Primrose and instead like a ladybug.

"You can see that far?" Tressa wondered. When had Alfyn gotten such good eyesight?

"Er — it ain't that far, is it?"

"I see them just fine," Therion offered.

The line didn't stop wriggling, and then the horizon started to wriggle along with it, and then Tressa's stomach started to do somersaults, and she decided it was not a very good idea to keep staring at the horizon for very long. She fixed her gaze instead on the rock at her feet. It looked almost like a turtle. She wondered if it would let her pet it.

"Hey, Tress? Tress!"

Tressa blinked. She shook herself. Alfyn appeared in front of her, waving a hand in her face. Tressa frowned. "I'm right here. You don't have to shout."

Alfyn frowned back at her. "I know I ain't the quietest fella around, but I weren't _that_ loud this time."

"That's okay. You got to get people's attention, right?"

Alfyn's frown deepened, so deep now that it began to droop off his face. "Hey, er, Tress. You sure you're feelin' alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. What about you?"

"Huh? What about me?"

Tressa watched Alfyn's face fall onto the ground. "Your face fell onto the ground," she informed him.

Alfyn's face looked up at her, and gave a confused laugh. "Haha, yeah, uh, what?"

"You never told me you could do that."

"Tress — I ain't doin' nothin'."

Tressa smiled down at him. "That's okay. Go at your own pace."

"She's talking to the ground."

"O-okay, Tress, I'm guessin' that maybe we all need to sit for a spell," Alfyn's face said, sliding up beside her.

"But you said we have to hoff it."

"Er, that's _hoof_ it, not —"

"Oh, I get it. Don't worry. I can carry you." She took a step toward him. The ground crashed into her.

"Cripes —"

"I don't think she can walk."

"No — I'm okay. I can keep going," she insisted, with a shake of her head. This time, the world didn't spin, at least not any more than it was already spinning, which was quite a bit, but if the turtle crawling away from her and Alfyn's face could handle the spinning, so could she. "It's the turtle," she explained.

"Gadzooks, she's burning!"

"No, I'm not."

Alfyn's face drifted above her, floating somewhere off to her left. She didn't know Alfyn could do that, either. "Tress, your face is whiter'n a snowbloom and hotter'n Nina's curry."

"How bad is she?"

Alfyn's face stopped moving, then began slowly floating back to her right. It grimaced. "Don't look like nothin' too scary — probably just seafarer's fever. Still, with a fever, you never wanna chance it. I'd feel a lot better once she's got some bed rest."

Tressa frowned up at Alfyn's face, now beginning to rotate, slowly, clockwise. "I don't wanna go to bed. I'm fine."

"Tress, you can't walk straight."

"It wasn't me. It was the turtle's fault. See?" she told Alfyn's face. She pointed in the general direction of the turtle.

"Tress… That's a rock."

"No, it isn't," Tressa said. Maybe Alfyn's vision wasn't as good as she thought it was. She turned to look at the turtle. It watched her for a moment, then floated into the air, tucked in its legs, and shot itself into the sky, disappearing. "Oh. It flew away."

"… _Yeah_ , you're definitely not okay," a scruffy, gray-and-purple-striped cat said. A tuft of unkempt fur had fallen over one of its eyes. Tressa didn't know cats could have purple fur, but decided the color looked good on this one. She reached out to pet it. The cat drew away.

"Awww. Here, kitty-kitty. I won't hurt you."

"What," the cat said.

"C'mere. All kitties like head scratches, right? Don't you want your head scratched?"

"I'm not a cat," the cat insisted.

"You're really fluffy, too. Are you a girl cat or a boy cat?"

"I'm not —"

"You must be a boy cat. Girl cats wouldn't let themselves look as scruffy as you," she decided, and this time managed to scritch the cat's head fur. "That's better. Doesn't that feel good?"

The cat sat, seemingly stunned. Tressa decided it was because of how good at head scratching she was.

"Heheh — yeah, Therion, don't that feel good?"

The cat raised its hackles. "Not. Another. Word," he hissed.

"Your fur's real soft. You know, I can take you home to Rippletide. There's lots of fish, and I bet Ma and Pa would love you."

"I bet they wouldn't," the cat huffed. "Hey. Let's get going before she tries to brush me."

"That's a good idea, Mr. Scruffy Fluffy."

"Snrk."

"Shut up."

"I know I have a brush somewhere," Tressa said, reaching for her backpack. She couldn't reach it. She frowned. She tried to turn onto her side, but that was hard to do when everything was turning. Or maybe it was very easy, because everything was already turning. She frowned again. Which was it?

Alfyn's face appeared, floating through the sky like a cloud. "Don't worry, Tress, I got your backpack."

"Oh. Good," she said. She thought a moment. She realized. "But… You don't have any arms."

Alfyn's face-cloud disappeared, instantly replaced with dozens of smaller Alfyn face-clouds. "I got a head, don't I?" they said, all at the same time.

"You have lots of heads," Tressa observed.

"Then, between all us heads, we can figure it out," they answered her, before vanishing again. "Yikes, this's real heavy. Hey, Therion, I got the bag — think you can carry her?"

"Only if she stops petting me."

"Don't be silly, Mr. Scruffy Fluffy."

The cat made a disgruntled noise, but padded closer to her anyway. Tressa felt herself be lifted through the air. She was now sitting on the cat's back. Her head was right above the cat's head, and she immediately began threading her hand through his fur. The cat sighed. Tressa hadn't known that cats could sigh. But if this one could, he must truly be sad.

Tressa frowned down at him. "Why are you sad? You should be purring."

"I do _not_ purr," the cat bristled.

"You don't? Then you're not much of a cat, are you?"

"I'm not a cat. That's what I've been telling you."

"That's really sad," Tressa decided, still scratching his head. "I know. You're just hungry, aren't you?"

The cat growled, probably hungrily. "As soon as we get to Goldshore, I'm out."

"Awww, don't go," Tressa said. "Can't we be friends?"

The cat growled again, but quieter, maybe something like a grumble, if cats could grumble, and since cats could sigh, they could probably grumble, too. Tressa felt like she was learning a lot today.

"This better be the shortest Froggen's tongue."

"Heh, no worries, bud. We'll be in Goldshore before ya know it."

"And then we can feed Mr. Scruffy Fluffy. Alfyn, can we keep him?"

Alfyn snickered. "Yep, he's a keeper, alright."

"I despise you."

"Don't be such a sourpuss. Haha. A sourpuss. Do you get it, kitty-cat?"

* * *

Tressa groaned. It came out more like a croak. She groggily opened her eyes. The room was only dimly lit, but it was enough to make her squint anyway. From somewhere came the muffled sound of creaking wood.

"Tressa? Are you awake?" a voice asked, gently.

It took her several moments to process the direction the voice was coming from. It took her several more moments to turn her head in that direction. And then several more moments passed before she recognized Ophilia as its owner, and then several more moments before she remembered she had been asked a question, and then several more moments to craft some sort of response.

"Ophilia," she finally whispered. It felt like a monumental effort.

She maneuvered the chair closer to Tressa's bed. "Yes, I am here," she answered, sitting down and taking Tressa's hand in her own. It felt warm. "How are you feeling?"

Tressa debated the question. She was feeling many things. Her legs felt like both jelly and lead. Her body was both burning up and frozen solid. Everything was simultaneously too quiet and too loud. She was feeling too many things.

"Awful," she finally decided on.

Ophilia smiled reassuringly. She turned Tressa's hand in her own; now, it felt like ice. "That is to be expected. Seafarer's fever is no minor illness."

Tressa laid there. Her head felt hazy. "I have… sea bream?"

Ophilia laughed lightly. "Would that it be so. No, it is a sickness that Alfyn has said is called seafarer's fever. It afflicts the body with weakness and chills, not to mention fever."

"…Oh," Tressa mumbled. That seemed to explain why she was in bed.

"Alfyn gave you a sleeping draught, and you seem to have slept through the worst of it. It will likely be one or two days yet before you are well enough to get out of bed."

"…Oh," Tressa mumbled. That seemed to explain why she was in bed, too. She tried to look around the room, but found that from her position there was little to see. "…Where," she finally croaked.

"You are currently resting at an inn in Goldshore," Ophilia informed her. "We were traveling back from Grandport when Alfyn and Therion noticed that you had taken ill."

"…Where," she repeated.

"Alfyn and the others?"

Tressa managed to just barely move her head slightly up and slightly down in the barest approximation of a nod.

"All fast asleep, yet. The sun has only just risen," Ophilia informed her.

Tressa, only halfway hearing Ophilia, managed another nod. Then, fully hearing Ophilia, she began to frantically throw the blankets off.

Ophilia clutched her hand. "Tressa — what is the matter?"

Tressa continued fumbling with the blankets, but for every one she threw off, it seemed as though there were ten more. "Goldshore — stuff for Ma — morning sale — I hafta —"

"Tressa, if your aim is to get out of bed, I must inform you that you are only wrapping yourself in the blankets more tightly."

Tressa fought them for a few moments more. Ophilia was right: she had only succeeded in more thoroughly trapping herself. Tressa turned to Ophilia. She tried to put on her best set of puppy-dog eyes.

Ophilia smiled knowingly. "That would perhaps work better if you did not look quite so exhausted."

Tressa frowned. She made a grumbling noise that sounded louder in her head than it actually was. She halfheartedly tried to pull her hand free.

"Tressa, you must rest. You are still recovering," Ophilia told her, firmly.

"I can't — I need to —"

"Perhaps if you told me the problem, I could be of some assistance?"

"No — merchant stuff — you don't know how —"

"I will choose not to be offended by your statement."

Tressa gathered up every ounce of strength in her body, and after a momentary burst of exertion, managed to force herself to sit upright.

"…See, Ophilia," Tressa managed to croak out, proudly, or as proudly as anyone could croak out anything.

Ophilia looked doubtful. "Tressa, please do not overtax yourself."

"I'm fine," Tressa insisted. She immediately threw up on Ophilia's dress.

"…I'm not fine," Tressa confessed.

"What did I tell you?" Ophilia chided her, not unkindly. She took a damp rag from the bedside table and dabbed at Tressa's face. "Now, perhaps you can tell me what issue is moving you to act so frantically?"

As soon as Ophilia finished, Tressa collapsed back onto the bed. Her body cried out in relief. "In Goldshore… Buncha stuff Ma n' Pa like…" she mumbled. "Wanna bring 'em some…"

Ophilia brought a glass of water to Tressa's lips. "Do you have a list of such items, perchance?"

Tressa obligingly opened her mouth. The water felt cool and comforting on her tongue. She swallowed. "Yeah," she finally managed. "In my bag."

"Then we shall search for them on your behalf," Ophilia informed her.

Tressa tried to shake her head. "You shouldn't… for me."

"Nonsense, Tressa. It is only right to help one another when we are in need."

Tressa tried to shake her head again. It was hard to do, with exhaustion already tugging at her eyes. "No. Do it… wrong. Hafta… haggle," she murmured.

Ophilia smiled at her. She leaned over, and brushed away a lock of hair that had fallen on her forehead. "Very well. If you are so insistent, we shall go together, once you are better."

Tressa nodded at her, or tried to, but she already felt too tired to move. Still, she couldn't help but repeat, "Hafta haggle… hafta haggle…" over and over again, like a mantra, until she finally fell into sleep.

* * *

When Tressa next awoke, it was nearly sunset. The window shades blocked the brunt of the sun, but she could tell by the color of the light that it was at least no longer morning. Her body felt stiff. She briefly tried moving her arms and legs. It wasn't as difficult as before. Glancing around the room was easier, too, and in doing so, she spied Olberic sitting in the corner, a book opened in his hand.

Tressa wiggled her way more upright. The dizziness was not as severe this time. "Sir Olberic?"

Olberic's ears perked. He turned toward her, and seeing her awake, closed his book in a single fluid motion. "Good afternoon, Tressa. I trust you are feeling in better health, if perhaps only slightly."

Tressa gingerly nodded. The world did not spin quite so much anymore. "Yeah."

"I am heartened to hear it."

Tressa chuckled weakly. "Me too. I wish I could just be better already."

"As any one of us has felt when fighting against illness."

"Sorry you have to put up with me."

Olberic shook his head. "An undue apology. We only do what any one of us would do, were the situation to be reversed."

Tressa chuckled weakly again. "Well, thanks. So it's your shift, huh? Where's everyone else?"

Olberic seemed to ponder the question. "They are all in town."

"Oh. When are they back?"

Olberic seemed to ponder this question, too. "Before nightfall, I would think."

"Oh. What are they doing?"

Olberic seemed to ponder this question most of all. "I know not," he said, eventually. "I suppose you would have to put the question to them."

No sooner had the words left his lips than Cyrus burst through the door in a panic.

"Sir Olberic, I must beg forgiveness. It is all my fault — I had not the self-discipline —"

Olberic looked alarmed. "Professor Albright, please calm yourself —"

Cyrus ignored him. "There were so many wonderful tomes, I found myself purchasing every one in sight — upon realizing my error, I had not the time —"

"Get ahold of yourself, man," Olberic admonished him.

Cyrus took a breath. "You are right. I must consider the rational course of action. There is time yet." He took another breath. "She has not yet awoken, has she?"

Olberic grimaced.

Cyrus' eyes widened. "Oh, dear."

Tressa piped up. "Afternoon, Professor. Good to see you."

Cyrus hastily spun on his heel. "And a wonderful afternoon to you, Tressa, my dear girl," he announced. "You are feeling well, I presume?"

"Uh-huh," she answered. "What was that you were talking about books?"

"Why, you know how I am as pertains to any sort of scholarly literature. I had discovered quite the collection of treatises on Coastlands history, and — scholar that I am — found myself quite enraptured by their contents, wouldn't you know," Cyrus babbled. He flicked his eyes toward Olberic nervously. "For instance, were you aware —"

Tressa winced. "Professor, I'm sorry, but I don't think I feel up to a lecture right now."

"Of course, most certainly, indeed, that is quite a reasonable way to feel, why you are only just recovering —"

"Professor," Tressa interrupted. "…Is everything okay?"

Cyrus looked rattled. "Why, yes, absolutely so, beyond absolute, in fact. Yes. Quite."

"…Why did you ask if I was awake?"

Cyrus continued to look rattled. "Am I not permitted to inquire after the health of a most cherished companion?"

Tressa considered his answer. "Well, yeah, I guess."

"Well, that is all there is to it, my dear girl. I am gratified that you are awake after your extended slumber, certainly with no ulterior motives to speak of."

Tressa stared at him. She turned to Olberic. "Sir Olberic, what's going on?"

The same look of panic that was on Cyrus' face migrated to Olberic's. "Er — that is to say, Professor Albright has the right of it," he stammered, unconvincingly.

Tressa blinked at Olberic. She blinked at Cyrus. She frowned.

"Shucks, I tell ya, it took a dog's age to find one of them crystal jewels," Alfyn said, walking through the door. Olberic and Cyrus simultaneously spun to quiet him. "Whoa, fellas, where's the — oh."

Tressa looked past Cyrus and Olberic, and straight at Alfyn. "You mean crystal gelatin."

Alfyn shuffled his feet. "Er — did I?"

"Because that's what Goldshore is famous for. Crystal gelatin, not crystal jewels."

Alfyn shuffled his feet more. "Er — is it now?"

"…You all tried to go shopping for me," Tressa realized. Upon hearing her, the three of them furiously shook their heads no, which of course meant that the answer was yes.

"You're all rotten liars," Tressa told them.

Alfyn winced. "Shucks. Guess the jig's up, ain't it? Sorry, Tress. Just thought it'd be a nice surprise for when you woke up."

Tressa sighed. "Look, it's not that I don't appreciate it. But you all are gonna get fleeced."

"Your concern is noted, but I might submit to you the possibility that it rests upon a hastily constructed foundation," Cyrus objected.

Tressa looked back at him, unconvinced. "It sounded like you were trying to find me a copy of _The Endless Sea_."

"Quite so, and I might suggest that you have excellent taste —"

"Did you buy it?"

Cyrus looked chastened. "Well — of the vast quantity of tomes I saw fit to purchase, it might perchance be the case that _The Endless Sea_ was, er — not among them."

"Right. And from the looks of things, Alfyn bought the wrong thing altogether."

Now, it was Alfyn's turn to look chastened. "Shucks, Tress. Them're real shiny little buggers, though. Don't people like those sorts of things?"

"Yeah, I guess," Tressa said, after a moment's thought. "I can turn a profit as long as it cost less than a few thousand leaves. How much did you spend?"

Alfyn wilted.

"You know what, don't tell me. I'll sleep better that way," Tressa decided.

"Tressa, it is yet premature to do anything but conjecture," Cyrus insisted. "Less than half of our number have returned; one cannot possibly draw a reasonable conclusion with such a small sample."

H'aanit entered the room, Linde at her heels.

"Why, I am certain H'aanit has met with success where we have not."

H'aanit raised an eyebrow at him. "Mine impression was that thou hadst insisted upon secrecy."

"Tress had us dead to rights quicker'n you could say dead to rights," Alfyn said, morosely.

"Then I regret to inform thee that my mission hath met with failure."

Tressa offered her a sympathetic smile. "You were probably after rock tortoise meat, huh?"

"How didst thou know?"

"Lucky guess. Don't worry, it's hard to come by. I don't know if I could find it."

H'aanit shook her head. "Nay, our search was fruitful, and not too dearly bought."

"Huh? Then… what happened?"

H'aanit shot Linde a glance. "Linde hath eaten it."

"Rawr," Linde confirmed. She flicked a tongue across her muzzle. Tressa did not think that counted as an apology.

"Linde hath said it was delicious."

"Well… at least someone got to enjoy it?" Tressa reasoned.

"Rawr."

"So," Tressa said, counting on her fingers. "That's a copy of _The Endless Sea_ forgotten, a package of rock tortoise meat eaten, and a case of crystal gelatin mistaken. Am I right so far?"

Cyrus tried and failed to hide a grimace. "Very much on the money, as it were."

Tressa continued counting off. "Then all that's left is a case of plum wine and a package of star carrots."

"I have brought the star carrots," Ophilia announced, from the doorway, until she spotted Tressa, and froze.

"It's okay, Ophilia," Tressa told her. "I already know. Let's see 'em."

Ophilia managed to look simultaneously bewildered and relieved. "But — how —?"

"None of you could keep secrets if your lives depended on it."

Ophilia laughed lightly. "I suppose that I have never been skilled at duplicity," she admitted, before bringing the carrots to Tressa for examination. "There were a fair number on sale in the market — I spent quite some time deciding on which appeared the freshest. I do hope they meet your standards."

Tressa scanned the vegetables. "…They _do_ look fresh and plump," she said.

Ophilia's eyes lit up cheerfully. "Oh, but don't they? The storekeeper was ever so friendly, and they looked so —"

"— but they're not star carrots," Tressa interrupted her.

Ophilia blinked like a fish. "I beg your pardon?"

"They're not star carrots," Tressa repeated. "Star carrots are more purple, and their stems look star-shaped. That's why they're called star carrots."

"You must be mistaken," Ophilia protested, flummoxed. "These are absolutely star carrots. The storekeeper gave me her personal assurances."

"The storekeeper sold you a bill of goods."

Ophilia looked stunned. "You mean to say — I have been lied to?"

"And how."

"I cannot believe this. Why, I have half a mind to find her and —"

"Don't bother. She's probably halfway to Stonegard by now," Tressa told her, just as Primrose entered through the door. "And how'd the search for the plum wine go?"

"Well enough, I would say," Primrose said, not bothering to feign ignorance, and without missing a beat produced a clear glass bottle filled with an amber liquid.

Tressa nodded approvingly. "Yep, this is plum wine, alright," she said, examining it closely. She glanced up at Primrose, afraid to hear the answer. "…How much did you get everything for?"

"Two thousand, all told."

Tressa's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Wow, really? That's the best deal I've ever heard. And it looks like the good stuff, too."

"It is, indeed. I can personally vouch for the flavor."

"You didn't open it, did you?"

Primrose smiled. "I have certain talents. One of them is knowing how to get men to buy me a drink."

Tressa laughed. "Haha, if you were a merchant, I'd have stiff competition. I can't believe you got him to give you a free sample _and_ sell you an entire case for only two thousand."

Primrose stilled. "…An entire… case. Yes."

Tressa's heart sank. "You… _did_ buy an entire case, right? Because two thousand for just one bottle is a bit… steep."

Primrose occupied herself by running a hand through her hair. "I appear to have… forgotten them."

"Forgotten? Where?"

"At the store. On the shelf."

"…You only bought the one bottle."

Primrose raised a finger. "Ah, but you see, this is what you might call an investment. Purchasing an overpriced bottle of wine is but the first step in earning his trust, such that eventually he will give me everything I desire."

Tressa looked at her. Primrose looked back.

"You got shafted," Tressa finally said.

"I got shafted," Primrose confirmed.

Tressa groaned. "So, is that the end of it, then? There's nobody else I'm missing who got ripped off, or who bought something they shouldn't have, or anything else?"

The entire group fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Sorry I'm late," Therion said, silently swinging the door open. He scanned the room and the assemblage of faces, each with an expression somewhere between mortified and funerary. "…Who died?"

"My pride," Alfyn grimaced.

Tressa sighed. She shot everyone a disgruntled look for good measure. "I _said_ it was a bad idea, but everyone got it in their heads to do my shopping anyway. And I'm happy that you all wanted to help. Really, I am. But… this? This is…"

"Akin to the deer attempting to hunten the lion," H'aanit supplied.

"A most undignified failure," Olberic agreed.

Therion took another glance around the room. "…Then it went as well as I thought."

"Please tell me you didn't sign up for this, too?" Tressa pleaded.

Therion looked offended. He strode up to Tressa's bedside and unceremoniously dumped a canvas bag on her legs.

"Ow! What the —"

"For you."

"What are you —" Tressa looked inside and stared in disbelief. "No way."

Tressa took the bag in her hands and let the contents spill onto the blanket. Spread out before her, like a buffet, sat everything she had asked for: _The Endless Sea_ , crystal gelatin (and not crystal jewels), uneaten rock tortoise meat, star carrots that were actually star carrots, and an entire case of plum wine. She looked up at Therion, eyes wide. Therion seemed uncomfortable with the attention. He fidgeted.

"You really got all this?" she wondered aloud.

"No, it's an illusion," Therion deadpanned.

Tressa took the star carrots in her hands. They felt real enough. She looked back up at him. "Thank you," she said.

Therion grimaced. "Don't say that. Makes me feel weird and tingly."

Tressa smiled to herself. "Aw, he _does_ have a soft spot. I guess at least one of you knows how to drive a bargain." She took the opportunity to examine the book more closely — definitely the genuine article, worth a fortune to cartographers, she was sure. "How much did all this cost, anyway?"

Therion was silent a moment. "It was a very good deal," he finally said.

Tressa frowned up at him. "Well, good. But how much did you spend?"

Therion flicked his eyes toward the window. "Everything considered, it was all very cheap. I think I haggled very well —"

Tressa's frown deepened. "How much did you spend."

"— probably the best haggling anyone's ever seen, in fact —"

"Therion."

"— you could even say that it was a complete steal —"

"Therion!"

Therion fiddled with his cloak. "…I got it for a 100-percent discount."

"You mean, you got it for free."

"Yes."

"You mean, you stole it."

"Also yes."

Tressa glared at him. "I take back everything I said. How could you do that?" she demanded.

"Very easily, actually, nobody was paying much attention so I didn't —"

"Not my point! You can't just steal from people because it's easy!"

"Right. I should steal because it's hard. Means I won't get rusty."

"No!" Tressa burst out. "The point was to buy everything for as little money as possible!"

"…Zero's pretty low."

"You _have_ to haggle!"

"I _tried_ ," Therion protested. "But nobody would meet me at my price."

"Which was?"

"Zero."

"Therion!"

Therion managed to look offended, somehow. "I told them I knew how to get it for nothing. It's not my fault they didn't believe me."

"It's a negotiation," Tressa explained, thoroughly exasperated and summoning all of her patience; and because she was not Ophilia, there was not enough patience in the world to summon. "You can't just expect people to accept your first offer. You offer, and counteroffer, and eventually you come to an agreement."

"We _did_ come to an agreement," Therion insisted.

"What kind of agreement involves stealing?"

"The shopkeeper told me I was free to go out and get everything for free if I could," Therion shrugged. "I agreed."

Tressa glared at him. "I don't care if my brain melts out my ears, I'm going to drag you with me and make you give back the stuff you stole!"

Alfyn looked panicked. "Tress, you ain't recovered yet —"

"I don't care," she shot back.

Therion glanced at her. "That's… probably not a good idea."

Tressa tried throwing the blankets off. The process took multiple repeated attempts over nearly a minute. "What? Just because I've got a fever doesn't mean I'm bedridden," she declared, glaring again at Therion. She slid herself down off the mattress. She wobbled. She clutched at the bedside table. She missed. "See? I'm fine." She reached for the table again. She missed again.

"Tressa, I am not certain —" Ophilia murmured.

"I got this, just, stop moving the table."

"Tress, ain't nobody moving the table."

"Then why is it moving?"

Therion watched her, and Tressa couldn't tell if it was detachment or amusement. Maybe detached amusement. "As funny as it would be watching you get up close and personal with the floor, that's not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?" Tressa demanded. Her hand finally found the table. She gripped it so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Therion flicked his eyes toward the window again. "…I may have mentioned that I was on an errand."

"So what?"

"And I may have mentioned that you had sent me —"

"You did what."

"— just in passing, you know, and anyway, long story short, you're now the leader of a thieves' guild. Congrats, by the way."

Given that she was sick, Tressa's face was already plenty white. It went even whiter. "Wh — what?"

"I said —"

"I heard you the first time!" Tressa snapped. She didn't know if it was because of the news or because of her head, but the room began to spin. "But how can — this isn't fair!"

Therion frowned ruefully. "I know. I've scrapped for the title of master thief my entire life, but you get promoted to criminal mastermind in just one day? What's the world coming to?"

"No, don't just make faces at me! Fix it!" Tressa demanded.

"Tress, you keep outta bed like that, and you're the one who's gonna need fixin'."

"In any event, what is there to fix?" Primrose asked.

"What is there to fix?" Tressa repeated, incredulously. "My reputation! My livelihood! My everything! I can't go through life being called a thief!"

"I've managed," Therion pointed out.

"I don't want to be you!"

"Be that as it may, my dear girl, the fact remains that of all of us, Therion here has managed to find success where each of us has failed."

Tressa whirled her head around, and she would've done it faster if the world had less spinning. "Professor? What are you saying?"

"I am merely assembling the totality of the evidence into an irrefutable conclusion," Cyrus calmly responded. "To rephrase: Therion has succeeded in his aims, and we would all do well to follow his example."

Tressa's jaw dropped.

"That was my conclusion, as well," Primrose agreed.

Tressa's jaw dropped farther.

"I'm glad some of us don't just reflexively smear the good name of thieves everywhere," Therion huffed.

"Wait — wait!" Tressa finally managed to find her voice. "This is — this is crazy! Just because you can't find something in a shop — that's no reason to stoop that low! Tell them, Sir Olberic!"

Olberic paused, seemingly pondering which words that would dissuade the others from joining in. He rubbed his chin.

"I had always wondered if my life took a slightly different course and I had become a brigand instead of a knight," Olberic finally said.

"Huh?"

"I suppose you will all need someone to look after you, won't you?" Ophilia offered.

"Huh? Huh?"

"Shucks, it'd be a lot easier to treat folks if I didn't hafta buy nothin'," Alfyn reasoned.

"Alfyn — you —"

"The fit survive. The unfit do not. Such is the way of nature. Such is the way nature hath always been," H'aanit said.

"You… you can't be serious," Tressa murmured, clinging to the bedside table for dear life. She flung her gaze around the room. Nobody looked like they were joking. Tressa's eyes finally settled on Linde. "Linde. You're with me. Aren't you, girl?"

Linde turned her back on Tressa with a huff. Not even the snow leopard was with her.

"You're — you're all crazy," Tressa decided. "I get being upset, but going to a life of crime? That's sick!"

"Tress, you're the only one of us who's sick," Alfyn pointed out.

"No, different sick! Sick in the head sick!"

"Well, we can't have that," Primrose said. "After all, you're our leader."

"Huh — what? I'm not —"

Ophilia frowned. "Of course you are. Did you not hear Therion's words? Only you can lead our merry band of thieves, Tressa."

"No, I don't _want_ to lead any —"

The door swung open. Tressa whirled. Her eyes bulged.

"Ma? Pa? What are you doing here?"

Ma's eyes were wide and teary. She looked petrified. "Tressa — we heard the rumors — but they're not true, right? Tell us they're not true!"

"What rumors are you even —"

Pa's moustache curled downward, in a truly livid frown. "Picked up the art of fibbing, have we? I thought we raised you better than that, girl."

"Of course you raised me well!"

Pa scowled. "And learned the art of backtalk, too, I see. Well, I suppose I shouldn't have expected any more from the leader of a thieves' guild."

Tressa gawked. "I'm not —"

Ma burst into tears and buried her head in Pa's shoulder. "Oh, I can't believe it! How could our little sea bream — a thief!" she sobbed. "I don't understand!"

"There, there," Pa said, holding Ma's hand tight with one hand and rubbing her shoulder with the other, as she cried wet tears onto his arm. He tried to hide behind sternly furrowed eyebrows, but Tressa couldn't see anything but the hurt in his eyes.

Tressa tried to gather herself. "Listen to me, Ma, Pa! You taught me everything about being a good merchant — about being smiley, and mannerly, and — and early! I'm your daughter — I'd never turn to thievery!"

Pa shook his head, a single time, solemnly. "You're right. None of my children would ever turn to thievery. Because you're no daughter of mine."

Tressa could do nothing but stare. "You — you don't mean —" she stammered.

"We have nothing more to discuss," Pa announced. "Farewell, Tressa." And he turned away from her, and Ma turned away from her, and they disappeared through the door.

The room wavered. "No," Tressa murmured.

"Well, now _that's_ taken care of," Therion grunted.

"No," Tressa repeated.

"Perhaps we should select a name for ourselves?" Primrose suggested.

"What a terrific idea. Let us put it to a majority vote," Cyrus agreed.

"No!" Tressa shouted, as she crumpled onto the floor and the room tumbled into black oblivion —

* * *

"Tressa! What is wrong?"

"No, I don't wanna —"

"Tressa, calm thyself —"

"— and then, Ma — and, and Pa, and — I'm sorry — and I love you, and —"

"Tressa, please, tell us what is the matter!"

"— I'm not gonna be a thief, I'm gonna be a merchant, the best one ever —"

"Tressa!" H'aanit's voice boomed, and Tressa blinked. H'aanit asserted her gaze. "Thou art ill, mayhap. But if thou canst not tell us of thine ills, there is naught thy friends can do to aid thee."

Tressa blinked again. H'aanit sat to her left; Ophilia, to her right. Tressa rustled herself in the blankets. She frowned. Blankets? When did she get back into bed? _How_ had she gotten back into bed? Ma and Pa had left, and everyone wanted to become thieves, and she had fallen onto the floor — and then…

H'aanit allowed her gaze to soften. "Thou lookst now to be of better temper. Art thou injured?"

"…No," Tressa said, with a shake of her head. The room did not spin this time, and she could see now that it was not the orange of sunset, but the yellow light of mid-afternoon. Had she slept for another day? And where was everyone else?

"What time is it?" she finally settled on.

Ophilia smiled gently. "It is just after noon."

Tressa furrowed her eyebrows. "But — it was almost sunset earlier."

"Sunset?" Ophilia repeated. "No, it has only been a few hours since you first awoke this morning. Do you recall?"

Tressa tried to think. "…I threw up on you."

"Er — yes, you did."

Tressa tried to think harder. "What happened after?"

"Not much, in truth. You fell back into sleep, and I remained here to keep you company," Ophilia answered. "And then, all of a sudden, you began thrashing about in your bed, and would not wake up. It gave me a good fright."

"Indeed. Thy most prodigious outburst was such that Linde and I could hear it from without the inn."

"Oh." Tressa stared at H'aanit, then at Ophilia. Each looked back at her with wondering eyes. Neither seemed to be lying; both seemed incapable of it. "…You didn't see Ma or Pa, did you?"

"I do not believe so. But I have never met them, and so I fear I would not know by sight alone. H'aanit, have you?"

H'aanit shook her head. "Nay, unless either hadst escaped my notice."

"…And when I get better, we're still going to the market. Right?"

Ophilia nodded. "But of course. It is important to you, is it not? Then it is as good as settled."

"Right," Tressa murmured to herself.

"Dost thou wish to talk about that which induced thee to screamen all manner of thoughts and frighten Linde so?"

Tressa shook her head. "No — it's nothing. Just a dream."

A pair of soft knocks came from the door; in the next moment, it inched open. Therion's head poked from the opening. "Everything alright?"

H'aanit nodded. "Verily. It was naught but —"

"You!" Tressa accused him. "I will _never_ be a thief! You got that?"

Therion raised an eyebrow. "…Okay?"

"So don't try to convince me — or anyone else! You won't win! You never will!"

"…Yeah, I think I'm leaving now," Therion said, and promptly vanished.

"Tressa? Whatever was that for?" Ophilia wondered.

"Hmph. It's nothing he didn't deserve."

"Thou thinkest so, in truth? 'Twas he who brought thee here, when thou wert too ill too walk."

"Hmph," Tressa repeated, but without the heat. She reached for the blankets. "I'll say something to him once I'm up and walking."

"Hold, Tressa. Alfyn hath said that thou art yet to remain in bed."

Tressa slumped. "Aw, really?"

"Yes, at least until evening. But he has said you may eat if you wish; since you have not eaten for nearly a day, I imagine you are hungry."

In response, Tressa's stomach gurgled. "Heheh, guess so," she said sheepishly.

Ophilia smiled back. "I thought you might, and so I have brought some soup," she said, revealing a small lacquer bowl filled with a creamy white broth. It smelled delicious. "The innkeeper had only just finished cooking, so it is still fresh."

Tressa took the bowl in her hands. She took a tentative sip. The broth was rich, and the vegetables were soft, and the meat was flavorful. She took another bite. The liquid soothed her throat. "Wow, this's real good! What's in it?"

"It is a local Goldshore speciality," Ophilia informed her. "I believe a vegetable called the star carrot is used?"

Tressa stopped mid-swallow.

"There are also chunks of rock tortoise meat —"

For the second time that day, Tressa threw up on Ophilia's dress.

**Author's Note:**

> I never start my Octopath Traveler fic by writing Tressa or Therion because I know they will inevitably end up hijacking the story anyway.


End file.
